Mapmakers

Beginning in my timid youth
I crafted meticulous maps
with squiggly lines and words
But my precious treasure maps
smudged into muddled scribbles
and I lost my prized “X” of ends
when I found myself all alone

In protracted corridors of confusion
my path eventually crossed hers
and she became my undying sun
Now—with bolder—accurate lines
words more confident and peaceful
we sketch our soft tracks to lands
far brighter and evermore hopeful

Together—we have discovered
times far beyond our times
lives long before our lives
and vast worlds without end
We have learned one big thing:
That if there is no beginning
there must be no end to the lines
wrote on our cartography of family